


No, I'm good.

by FrillyPinkUmbrella



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But only in the last two chapters, Comforting James, Emotions, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MWPP, Marauders era, Runaway Sirius Black, Sirius is best buddies with James's owl and that's the cutest thing ever okay, Slow Burn, Smut, like extreme slow burn to the point that you want to yell at them to hurry up, prongsfoot - Freeform, sad Sirius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-10-10 18:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17431289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrillyPinkUmbrella/pseuds/FrillyPinkUmbrella
Summary: Massively overused but still incredibly emotional, heartwarming plotline.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> If James taking in Runaway Sirius into his house-- no questions asked-- isn't the cutest thing ever, I really don't know what is.

James flung his arms over the top of his head and yawned.

 _Fuck McGonnagal’s fifteen-foot essay. I’ve done enough for tonight, or for a bloody lifetime,_ he thought to himself. He rubbed at his eyes, getting up for bed.

Then he heard the knock, knock.

It was a tiny knock, knock. He couldn’t have caught it if he was still focused on his essay. He froze on the spot, standing beside the couch, a frown clouding its way over his face. His head slowly turned towards the door, but he couldn’t hear anything anymore. _Right. Now McGonnagal’s really gotten to me._

Just when he was about to shake his head and move for the stairs, he heard it again.

_Knock, knock._

This time, James was positively alarmed. It was close to two in the morning. According to his memory, no one, magic or muggle, had ever visited the Potters’ estate in the dead of night, uninvited and unexpected.

Rubbing at his eyes for the final time, he made a move towards the door. He pulled out his wand just in case, before jerking the door open.

There stood Padfoot.

“Prongsy,” he said, his eyes all but crossing over.

James stood shellshocked at the door. He stared at Sirius’s face, then slowly cast his eyes down to examine the idiot’s state: dribbling wet, shivering, on the brink of collapsing.

“What in the name of _bloody Merlin_ happened to you, Sirius Black?”

“Don’t call me that.” Sirius said, suddenly sharp.

“Sorry,” James said. Sirius never exactly liked his family name. James silently cursed himself for forgetting.

Deciding that his best friend wasn’t feeling like answering any questions right now, not here where he was evidently freezing over, James motioned for him to come in.

Once inside, water trickled down from Sirius’s entire form onto the floor. James shut the door behind him and immediately set to work.

Lightly waving his wand around Sirius’s shuddering body, he siphoned off the cold rainwater and sparked up little heating charms all over him. Judging from how Sirius’s chattering teeth had become less audible, he wasn’t doing so bad.

“You good?” he said.

“Mmm.” Sirius said faintly.

“You want to take a hot bath, eat something, get some rest, or…”

“No, I’m good.”

Nonplussed, James peered at Sirius closely. Sirius’s eyes shocked him. They were squinting, as though he wasn’t sure he liked what he was looking at—which, painfully, was James’s face—and the exhaustion in them was so obvious that they looked utterly lifeless. Sirius was not himself at all. For all James knew, he could be under the Imperius. He was not usually this way— always quick to be witty, playfully snide, and, maybe at this moment, getting a kick out of seeing James being such a mom… and he was not doing any of this. What was James supposed to do? Just stand there like an idiot while Sirius figured out what he needed? Or should he just make a hot sandwich and force-feed it to him?

“Si…“ James started awkwardly, and, seeing Sirius’s expression, stopped abruptly.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, like it was painful just getting the next words out.

“Look, can I just… come in?”

James shook his head in disbelief.

“Since when did you start asking like that, all polite…”

He took his arm and dragged him into the living room.

 Once there, Sirius flopped himself onto the couch— the very spot where James had been sitting doing homework only moments ago. Sirius sunk his head into his arms, so low that his face was buried into the nooks of his elbows, all but hiding it from the world.

James trotted over and flopped down right beside him. He looked at Sirius and waited. One second of dead silence, two seconds, three, four…

But it didn’t matter. He would literally wait forever. Although he doubted he was the most helpful best friend ever, he could at least stay by Sirius’s side, not pushing him to say something, but not leaving him alone to deal with his turmoil, either. If staying in Sirius’s reach was going to help him even a little, then stay he would. Regardless of how much McGonnagal’s assignment had drained him.

 Suddenly, Sirius blurted out in a hoarse voice.

“I just ran away from my house, Prongs, no big deal.”

Now, if _that_ wasn't what James was prepared for.

“What.” James said, dumbly. He held his breath until Sirius could begin to elaborate.

Sirius opened his mouth and-- sneezed. _Loud_. 

 


	2. Chapter Two

_Of course_ he’d be feeling cold. He’d been around outdoors for Merlin knows how long. For the second time tonight, James inwardly face-slapped.

He flicked his wand at the fireplace, and the gleaming embers instantly sparked into roaring flames that were perhaps unnecessarily lively. He might have gone too far in his rush to make Sirius feel comfortable. Hurriedly, he toned it down so the fire was now reasonably sized.

He glanced at Sirius to see if he’d gotten any reaction, only to find Sirius hadn’t even so much as glanced up.

James shifted his gaze onto his own lap as he now summoned one of his blankets from his room upstairs. When it fluttered into his reach, he gently draped it around Sirius’s shoulders.

Noticing the weight of the blanket, Sirius blindly clutched at the edges and wrapped it tighter around himself, folding in his arms with it. His head was still bowed all the way, and James got a weird feeling that he wasn’t ready to face him.

“Need anything, Pads?” James said softly. He started to gently rub his palms up and down Sirius’s upper-arms, trying to figure out how to best make him warmer.

“James,” Sirius whispered shakily.

James sucked in a breath. Rarely did Sirius call him by his real name— it was always Prongs, Jamie, Prongsy, Prongsikins, or any variation of the sort. Never his real name. If nothing else, this told him that James was not dealing with something ordinary here, at two am, inside the Potters’ living room with a shivering Sirius.

As James held Sirius’s shoulders firmly, he felt them start to tremor slightly: minor vibrations preluding an upcoming, disastrous earthquake.

“I don’t know what got into me,” Sirius whispered. He blew out a shallow, shaky breath. “I got mad. I shouldn’t have. I should have dealt with it the same way I did always.” James merely nodded along, listening and kneading Sirius’s arms in a way that he hoped was soothing. Sirius continued to mumble into his elbows. “I should have—ignored her. Mother. Father, too. I always managed to, you know? I always ignored them. Fuck, I don’t _know_ why I didn’t keep my cool this time.”

“It’s okay, Si.”

“It’s _not_ okay!” Sirius abruptly jerked his head up and met James’s eyes. It all happened in half a breath, and with a horrible jolt, James realized that his best friend was crying. His brows were furrowed and slightly quivering, his eyes squinting painfully, bleeding tears. Sirius never cried. Ever.

“Si,” James said, trying to not let the shock show. He continued to rub Sirius’s arms, a little harder now, more assuring. “ _It’s okay_. You ran away from home. That’s okay, Si. Hey, look—“ Sirius’s shoulders began to visibly shake, and James became more desperate. “The way I see it, it’s totally fucked up that you had to endure your parents’ treatment for the entire time so far, and it was right for you to finally get away from them.”

It was a few moments before Sirius spoke again.

“I was—“ his voice hitched. “I was an idiot. I could have dealt with it the way I usually did. After all, it was the usual stuff. Nothing special. Scum, blood-traitor, family-traitor, defector. And then they—“ Sirius shut his mouth, then his eyes. He visibly clenched his jaws, and James could tell he was struggling to get something out. Something obviously important that was definitely _not_ part of ‘the usual stuff.’

James’s insides ached seeing his best friend in such a state, struggling to talk to _him_ , of all people. And he called himself his best friend.

“They what?” James prompted gently, not letting his disappointment show.

“They said they would kick me out if I didn’t cut ties with my blood-traitor friends. James Potter, in particular.” Sirius whispered. His shoulders slumped.

“Oh.” James’s shoulders did the same.

“I said I would never cut ties with James Potter,” Sirius said. His quivering lips showed a hint of a smirk.

James’s stomach did a funny flip.

“So you didn’t run away. You got kicked out.” James said quietly.

Sirius shook his head.

“I ran away before they could kick me out. In the Black family, you’re still officially part of the family until you’ve gotten your name burned off the ‘noble’ Family Tree,” he said, those last words dripping in sarcasm. “I got away before they could have forced me to watch myself being scorched to oblivion. But I bet they’ve done it by now.”

Sirius let out a quiet sob, just one, and fell silent.

James gently rested his chin on Sirius’s shoulder, and brought his palm up to cup the back of his neck. Carefully watching his face for any negative reactions— which he couldn’t catch any— he snuggled up to him. Sirius glanced sideways and caught James’s round, blinking eyes, which were looking at Sirius's reassuringly, like he believed in him.

“Okay,” James said in a low voice, directly into Sirius’s ear. “You’re okay. You deserved better. You made the right choice. And now you got me. Mum and Dad will let you stay, I swear they will. No questions asked. You’re officially part of the Potters now, Pads.” James did a little nudge of his head so it pressed against Sirius’s.

“James,” Sirius breathed out slowly. “I don’t know why it’s affecting me so much. It was honestly expected. I’d been planning to run away since I can remember. But now that I’ve actually left— I mean, _Reg_ wasn’t so horrible— he could actually be sweet, if you avoided bringing up the topic of our family, or if you complimented his flying— I’d been teaching him flying, and he was getting better— his maneuvering, so much more controlled— I’ll never talk to him again— he’ll probably act like he doesn’t recognize me—” Sirius scrunched up his face, fighting the tears. After a moment, he visibly gave up and let them slide down his pale skin, shamelessly.

James stared at him, mesmerized. Merlin, he was beautiful, even when he was hurting. His tears reflected the dancing firelight as though they were alive, and James felt an urge to lean in and kiss all of them away, and after that, to hold him tight, and whisper something, anything— promises, reassurances— into his ear forever and ever until he finally calmed down.

They were silent, then. Who knows for how long— maybe an hour, maybe a couple of hours. James didn’t budge from his position, where his chin was perched on top of Sirius’s shoulder, his forehead resting against the side of Sirius’s head, his warm body pressing into Sirius’s side until Sirius finally warmed up just as much. All the while, James was caressing Sirius’s back with his palm and breathing in his scent. He smelled like rain and dirt— he _had_ been flying out in the cold, after all— but he also smelled like home.

James wondered if he smelled like home to Sirius, too.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was looking for Prongsfoot fanart and couldn't find a lot... WHY ARE THEY NOT GETTING THE ATTENTION THEY DESERVE? Just, why?
> 
> Drarry, in my opinion, (sorry Drarry fans) is just way too unrealistic compared to Prongsfoot, and yet Drarry is more popular and widely acknowledged. Draco and Harry were arch enemies, okay, they were Slytherin and Gryffindor, they constantly fought each other, and even if they ended up together they would have made an abusive relationship. On the other hand, Prongs and Padfoot were BEST FRIENDS. They loved each other, they freaking treasured each other, and yet Harry Potter fans do not recognize their chemistry nearly as much as Drarry. 
> 
> I need someone to explain why. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for your kudos and encouraging words.


	3. Chapter Three

When James was conscious next, the first streaks of sunlight was already streaming into the living room. He shifted his head a little and realized he’d fallen asleep on Sirius’s shoulder. Blushing slightly, he peered into Sirius’s face, only to see that the boy was sleeping soundly, looking unperturbed about the weight on his shoulder that should have been unfamiliar and at least a little uncomfortable.

Raising his head gently, James felt himself smile as he gazed at the sleeping face, which was at the moment unriddled with any of the remorse or anxiety it had displayed only a couple hours before. _It’s not fair,_ James thought to himself. _He’s the same bloody age as I am. He shouldn’t have to suffer like this._ The sleeping Sirius soothed James, as the picture itself gave away no hints to what troubled Sirius in his waking life.

James soon noticed that his blanket had slipped off of Sirius’s shoulders and settled to crumple around the waist. He took the edges and slowly resettled it over Sirius’s torso, careful not to wake him up, although it might have been slower than necessary. He chanced another glance at his face: the long eyelashes curled softly upward as if ready to catch leprechaun gold should some of it rain on them, and the corner of his pink lips curved contently, like he was remembering a particularly fond memory from the past to use for his Patronus. James would be fascinated at Sirius’s expression whenever he conjured his dog Patronus (which the Marauders tended to do a lot just for kicks), as he desperately wished that the memory Sirius used involved himself in some way or another. When James peered closely enough—which was probably _too_ close—his eyes could trace the tear-tracks still faintly marked from the cheeks down to the chin. James sighed sadly, both for Sirius because of how much he had had to go through the previous night, and for himself because of how useless he was to his best friend. He couldn’t even comfort Sirius without being distracted at just how pretty his face was. He knew deep inside that he really was just a fucking perv—not a best friend, not a fellow Marauder—and that Sirius would hex him if he ever caught him looking at him like that…

 

Peeling himself away from Sirius’s side, James tiptoed to the kitchen where his mother was already preparing breakfast. She turned and smiled knowingly at her son.

“Morning, Jamie. I see there was a visitor last night?”

James blushed furiously—she had seen him literally slumped unconsciously over Sirius on the couch.

“Er… yeah. Early this morning, actually,” he said, his voice small.

“Well, I suppose he couldn’t have chosen a more reasonable time of day…”

“It was an emergency. He had to… uh, get away,” James said quickly, making it ambiguous on purpose. He should let Sirius decide how much he wanted to let out to James’s mother.

Mrs. Potter only hummed in response as she turned her attention back to the scrambled eggs. She already knew Sirius as much as a mother could know her son’s best friend, and she wasn’t nearly as startled as she should have been when she noticed that Sirius had entered her house sometime during the dead of night. She didn’t just trust Sirius; she loved him like her own son.

“Er… Mom, you wouldn’t mind if I invited Remus and Peter over, would you? Seeing that Sirius came over, I thought that maybe we—“

“Honey, of course I wouldn’t mind.” Mrs. Potter cut off the babbling James.

James muttered a hurried thanks and, resisting the urge to glance over to where Sirius was still huddled in his sleep, climbed up the stairs three at a time.

 

When James had scribbled down two identical messages, he scrambled over to his scruffy owl.

“Listen, Whistles, I need them to be here by the time Sirius wakes up,” James said, then immediately regretted it when Whistles let out a happy shriek. 

“Shush! Whistles, none of that, you’ll wake him up!”

In spite of himself, he grinned affectionately. Whistles had always had a soft spot for Sirius—perhaps more than for James himself, although he hated to admit it. Whistles and Sirius interacted on something like an extraterrestrial level which often left James muddling in confusion by himself. Whistles would hoot and shriek while flying in circles over Sirius’s head, and Sirius would jump over desks and chairs and even Mrs. Potter’s rack of precious Goblin-forged silverware (of course, when she was not looking) just to make futile attempts to grab her. They would be both so entirely happy to be around each other that James’s exasperated remarks—“Why don’t you both get a room, honestly”—would all but fly by unnoticed amidst the racket.

James sighed as he watched his owl zoom ever so enthusiastically out of the window. She would be let down to see the state of Sirius at the moment—that is to say, Sirius was not Sirius.

 

***

 

“Prongs?” Sirius murmured sleepily.

“No, you idiot! It’s your beloved Moony!” Remus exclaimed, grabbing a nearby cushion and stuffing Sirius’s face with it.

“Oi!” Sirius suddenly jerked awake and shook his head to get rid of the cushion. “Moony? ’S it really you?” He blinked, bewildered at the body now practically lying on top of him, arms hugging him tight.

Remus finally let go and Sirius could resume his breathing. Taking a look at his face, he grinned.

“Moony!”

Sirius sat up straighter, rubbing at his eyes. When he opened them again, they landed on another face, and he screeched in delight.

“Wormtail! You came too!”

“That’s right, Pads.” Peter squeaked. “Although, I could’ve come an hour later at least. Merlin knows how much of a Sleeping Beauty you were.”

Sirius took the cushion and flung it in Peter’s direction, (“hmmph,” was Peter’s anguished response) when finally he noticed a third figure leaning idly on the banister by the staircase, crossing his arms and sniggering.

Shaking away the last remnants of grogginess from sleep, he quickly patted Peter on the back and brushed past on his way toward James.

Despite all the confidence he had had as he approached, no words would come out once he halted in front of him. Although James was smirking that lopsided smirk (which Sirius adored) with his dimples pronounced mischievously, his brown eyes glinted from behind his glasses with what looked like a rare, genuine happiness.

Sirius felt his throat dry up. What was he supposed to say? Thanks? No, that would be weird. James always invited all of the other Marauders to his house. Why should Sirius say thanks all of a sudden?

James spared him the awkward silence by giving a tiny nod, that Remus and Peter from across the room wouldn’t be able to see. “Go take a shower, sleeping beauty. Grab some food from—ah!“ He didn’t get to finish as he was wrestled down onto the stairs by a sudden blur of strong limbs.

“Sleeping beauty, eh? What are you, then? Wanking buck.” Sirius huffed.

“Deer… don’t… wank,” James struggled to breathe.

Sirius gave James a knowing smirk as he gave his (firm, Quidditch-toned) chest one final shove and let go. Then he disappeared up the staircase.

 

“Pete! Quit flailing and pass the Quaffle!” Remus roared.

It may have been unfair, really, as Peter was the least experienced of the four. Sirius and James were on the Gryffindor team as Beater and Seeker, and Remus enjoyed going on long-distance flights over the English countryside by himself in the summer.

But none of them cared about fairness as they scrambled for the Quaffle, tumbled out of the zooming Bludger’s way, and kept a wary lookout for James’s personalized shiny Snitch.

Peter once again kicked himself upwards and flung the Quaffle with all of his strength.

Then it happened.

In a flash, Sirius’s mind’s eye reeled to a picture of a certain spiky-haired, small boy whom he loved dearly. Where the others only saw empty space, he saw him: his feet crossed tightly underneath his broom, like he was latching on for dear life despite being merely feet above the lush grass, his arms straight and his hands gripped tight as he twisted the broom upward, nearly losing his balance, and at the last moment, rising upward at a fairly impressive speed.

“ _Sirius I did it!_ HAHAAAAAA” Sirius could hear his voice so realistically that his right eye prickled at the first hint of a tear.

“Si, you good?”

The vivid memory of Regulus Black instantly faded, and Sirius’s eyes focused on another pair that looked distinctly brown and concerned.

He bowed his head. His bat slipped from his grasp. His elbows gave in and he felt a nauseating tug on his stomach. He was falling…

A strong arm wrapped around his waist and slowed him down to a safer speed as he continued to descend.

“Hey, you morons leaving us here?” A voice in the distance—must be Remus.

“He’s broomsick from last night! I’m giving him a potion! Keep playing!” A yell from right beside him—must be the one with his arm around Sirius.

“Right, take your time!” Sirius heard, followed by the unmistakable thud of a Quaffle, a high-pitched “oi!,” and a chuckling “pay attention, Wormtail!”

James guided them both toward the ground.

When he released his arm from around him, Sirius finally brought himself to look up. They were in a small clearing, secluded by bushes, which happened to be just out of sight of the other two oblivious boys.

This time, Sirius really had to say it.

“Thanks.”

“Forget it.” James said quietly. “You aren’t actually broomsick, are you?”

Sirius shook his head. “No,” he managed out shakily.

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He brought his hands up to his face and cried quietly.

He hated it. This was the same as last night. Why couldn’t he just get over it? Sirius Black got over everything. He’d toughened up through fifteen years of parental abuse and he was still as weak as a lost puppy. He was indeed so weak that he had to pull his best friend into it as well. If this continued for long enough, James would give up on him at some point, Sirius knew for sure.

Once again, strong arms wrapped tightly around his torso.

“I’m sorry, Padfoot, I’m sorry,” James muttered heavily into his ear.

“No… I’m sorry, Prongs. It won’t—happen again I swear—I—it just came out of nowhere—Regulus—Peter’s flying kind of—looked an awful lot like—”

“You must have been good at it.” James said softly, cutting him off.

“I—huh?”

“You. Teaching Regulus.” James chuckled. “He was lucky to have had you as the coach.”

Sirius was silent. His fingers felt sticky from the tears, but he kept them unmoving over his eyes.

“I could picture you easily. Oh, you must have taught him the Falcon’s Upswing, for sure! You did, didn’t you?”

“What—I—yeah—” Sirius was startled. _How did James know—?_

James laughed.

“I fucking knew it! You loved that one so much, in first year. Remember those flying lessons? You kept showing off that one move, and Hooch was furious, she had to charm your broomstick so you’d come down for instructions…”

Sirius chuckled wetly.

“Yeah…I remember…”

“You were so proud of it, Si. I knew it would be the first technique you’d teach Regulus.”

Sirius glanced up, feeling safe to finally remove his hands from his face. His grey eyes met James’s brown.

James was looking at him strangely. Of course, he was wearing that usual playful look, like he was plotting the next prank. Actually, he was _always_ plotting the next prank.

But there was something more to it, something Sirius had never noticed before in James’s expression. He was in pain.

“Sorry,” Sirius whispered.

“What? For what?”

“For… I dunno. Just—this?”

“You… You shouldn’t apologize, really. I want this. I want to make you feel better.”

Sirius sighed. _Why was James so… good? And why did Sirius have to treat him like this, like how a five-year-old treated his teddy bear when Mummy locked him up in his room?_

“You don’t have to do this, Prongs.” he said, and immediately felt his stomach drop as he registered the look on James’s face. Yes, he definitely was hurt.

“No, I - I want to… Pads.”

Sirius thought it was his turn to hug James, so he did. Bone-crushingly tight, that is. Rather than resist being dominated, like he usually did, James relaxed into Sirius’s clutch. This much sincerity was unfamiliar and awkward between them, but it was still nice.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” Sirius breathed.

“Anytime, you dork. Wanna go join the others before they get suspicious that we’re plotting something?”

“Now _that’s_ an idea…”

A punch landed on Sirius’s rib.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggle when thinking about how Peter would fit into the Marauders' dynamic... We didn't get much of his personality before he switched to the bad side, did we?
> 
> Anyway, here's the dilemma: do y'all want to see James and Sirius getting together at James's house, or at Hogwarts after term starts?  
> Much love.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long-ass chapter in which pretty much nothing important happens but the romantic tension does evidently escalate.

Remus, naturally, had already finished all of his summer assignments.

“Are you bloody serious? It’s only been two weeks since vacation started.” James said, startled.

“Am I bleeding?” Sirius said automatically, whipping his head around to examine the state of his body.

All three other Marauders rolled their eyes and ignored him.

“’S not like I had anything to do the past couple o’ weeks,” Remus shrugged.

So it happened that Remus got upstairs for bed right after a couple rounds of Exploding Snap.

“He’s superhuman, he is, honestly” Peter mumbled.

“Have you noticed he transforms into an animal once a month?” Sirius said.

“ _Padfoot!_ ” James said, frantically leaning across to Sirius’s mouth with his hand and glancing around the vicinity.

He could hear his parents chatting softly in the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to their conversation.

Sirius grabbed James’s wrist and jerked it away from his face, annoyed.

“’S not like they’re gonna care all that much, even if they found out,” he said bitterly.

James knew Sirius was thinking about his own parents, and how they would react if they knew about Remus’s superhuman-ness.

James sighed.

Peter’s eyes darted nervously between his two friends.

“Padfoot, you never really told me…”

“I ran away, Peter.” Sirius said, dismissively.

James tried not to think too hard about how Sirius had been more emotional and all when it had been him telling James.

 

Two hours later, Sirius noticed that Peter had been knocked unconscious on the carpet, his head resting peacefully on a pile of parchment, strands of his blonde hair dipping into his ink pot.

 _Tut-tut_ , Sirius clicked his tongue and crawled over to him. He grabbed lightly onto Peter’s shoulder and turned him onto his side, so that his breathing was made easier and his hair was out of the ink pot. Then he took the hairs, little by little, inspected them closely, and cast drying charms here and there to get rid of the black stains.

 

James’s eyes peeked out from behind his textbook as he watched surreptitiously from his spot on the couch. Sirius was all manly on the surface, but really, all Marauders knew that he was gentle and caring if need be. It was just that James didn’t get to see this side of him every day.

 

 _If I had ink in my hair, too, would he do the same for me?_ He imagined Sirius’s face being inches from his own. Sirius’s eyes roving over the locks and strands of James’s chaotic hair, humming his disapproval, his fingers reaching for them one by one, tipping his wand on them with the utmost gentleness. James’s breath caught.

 

Sirius saw him staring and smirked.

“What, Prongs, were you wondering when your turn was?”

“Huh?” James said with a start. He might not have been as surreptitious as he’d thought. “What’s my turn?”

“Your turn to get my attention, obviously?” Sirius quirked his eyebrows.

“What… _I didn’t ask for your attention,_ ” James said in a rush, but the lie was obvious even to his own ears.

“You’re always asking for my attention.” Sirius said simply.

James snorted, only to hide the fact that he couldn’t come up with a single witty retort. Which was unusual, really.

His face froze when suddenly Sirius scrambled toward him and kneeled down, directly in front of where James was sitting on the couch, stunned.

Sirius leaned in, looking at James curiously.

James licked his lips.

“Pads?” he said, his voice all husky, like he’d lost it for a moment and had just found it hidden in his throat. “Do you like what you’re seeing?” To James’s embarrassment, it only half sounded like teasing.

Sirius saw him flush at his own words. He snickered, although it seemed as though it lacked some of the usual mirth, replaced with something else.

“Well, do you like seeing _me_ seeing you?” he crooned, way too sweetly for it to be a genuine question.

James’s mouth opened dumbly, but nothing came out. He felt the odd sensation in his throat again, like a bubble of air was stuck inside him and wouldn’t come out, because it didn’t know what words to morph into.

Sirius’s smirk widened.

“Aw, Jamie, have you gone mute? This is new.”

James’s flush deepened. With that faint amusement glinting in those almond-shaped silver-grey eyes, and that stunning, signature half-smirk playing on his pink lips, Sirius looked too—he looked— _dammit, he looked hot._

“Why d-don’t you go to bed, Padfoot, no need to wet your pants over me.”

Sirius huffed, bemused. It was a rather quiet huff, though. And when Sirius shook his head, it seemed to James as though it was a tad bit slower than when he usually shrugged off a similar insult.

“Night, Jamie,” he said quietly. “Make sure Wormy doesn’t catch a cold.”

He got up and disappeared.

James heard heavy footsteps go up the stairs, one by one, until he was sure Sirius had reached his room.

It was then that James finally blew out an audible sigh, and an audible “what the fuck.”

Yes, Sirius Black was handsome, but he was more than that. He was hot, funny, bold, annoying. He was James’s best partner in crime and his best mate. And he was James’s biggest, most hopeless crush.

 

The next morning, James, Remus, and Peter awoke to the unmistakable noises of the gleeful early-bird Sirius.

“WHISTLES LITTLE BUDDY! HAVE YOU MISSED ME?”

Almost simultaneously, James’s owl hooted loudly, also carrying across the halls and rooms to reach the shriveling ears of the other inhabitants of the house.

“HAAHAAAAA, MATE, YOU BETTER TELL ME WHAT YOU’VE BEEN UP TO WITHOUT ME,” Sirius bellowed.

_“Hoot, hoot, hoooooot!”_

“NO KIDDING! NO BLOODY KIDDING, WHISTLEY-BOO!”

Of course Sirius could not comprehend what each of the different variations of the ‘hoot’ meant. This did not seem to stop him from sustaining an entirely entertaining conversation with the owl, however.

“Sirius, dear, it’s seven AM! For heaven’s sake, please be more sensible about the others in this house,” came Mrs. Potter’s voice.

“Ah, Mrs. Potter! G’morning! Yeah, sorry, I guess, I’ll just…”

The next moment, an impressively messy-haired boy was slumped against Sirius’s doorframe, scowling distinctively.

“It’s no fucking use trying to stop his shouting match now, Mom. Everyone within a bloody seven kilometer radius should already be awake because of him,” James said with a murderous, though sleepy, glare directed at Sirius.

“James, please mind your language,” was all his mother said before heading back to the stairs.

James grumbled, at least until he caught the sight displayed in front of him.

Whistles, fat and fluffy and snowy-white, was perched on Sirius’s shoulder and was happily snuggling its face and upper feathers into the side of his face. Her eyes were squeezed shut in innocent pleasure and her tiny beak chirped out loud, affectionate tunes.

Sirius, in the meantime, was ruffling up her back feathers and then smoothing them down with his palm repeatedly. James wondered if it was indeed the first sign of madness when you began to feel jealous of your own owl. 

Sirius’s face, already split into a full-blown grin, somehow brightened even more as his eyes landed on his silent observer. James shut his mouth closed. (When had it opened?)

“What a good morning Jamie, is that a jealous look I detect?”

“Wh-what?” Surely Sirius would have told him if he had somehow mastered Legilimency without James knowing.

Sirius crooned faux-sympathetically.

“Don’t worry. ’S not your fault that she prefers me over you. Practically all the _birds_ at school do.” He quirked his eyebrows at his own clever double entendre.

James sighed in relief, collecting himself.

“Oi, that’s not true! You know, Evans seems to be expressing some interest in me these days.”

Both boys knew that Evans was a joke by now, a remnant of James’s embarrassing past. When James flirted with her once in a while, it was really just for kicks— except, it actually seemed to be working recently and now, James was beginning to think of pulling back before it got too far.

Sirius sighed, apologetically. “Evans hardly counts as _all the birds_ at Hogwarts, deer Prongsy.”

“Oh, Pads, I think she might as well count. She’s the hottest bird by far.”

Just then, Whistles let out a sudden screech and swooped upwards from her position on Sirius’s shoulder. She nearly hit the ceiling before abruptly flapping her wings and now she was hurtling down, aiming her beak sharply in the direction of James.

 _“Oi!”_ James ducked, but the owl merely screeched her entire way as her pointy beak pecked his head a little too hard, then flailed her stuffy wings madly so that they ruffled and pulled at James’s hair in all angles.

“What the fu— _Ow!_ You bloody lunatic! What— _OW!_ — what the _fuck_ are you doing?” James yelled from somewhere underneath the eye-crossing blur of cloudy feathers.

Meanwhile, Sirius was guffawing.

“Obviously, Evans is _not_ the hottest bird out there—Jamie, how could you overlook your own pretty owl?”

Whistles made a keening sound and decided to settle down, now perched atop James’s head contentedly. James’s hair was sticking up and twisting around the owl’s fat middle like a jet-black, chaotic bird nest.

Sirius took a long look at it and figured that in fact, that had been exactly Whistles’ intention. He whooped.

“Nice job, Whiz-bee. Make sure you do that every time James fails to attach Honeydukes chocolate to the letters he writes me, yeah?” He sniggered at his own wonderful idea.

Whistles chirped.

“Oh, don’t you fucking _chirp.”_ James said threateningly. _“_ If you had any common sense, you would show some loyalty to the one who actually feeds you Honeydukes chocolate when you watch me eat it and won’t shut up.”

He grabbed at his own hair but found it near-impossible to untangle it while a certain beak painfully attacked his fingers.

Sirius watched. He watched James’s eyes scrunched up painfully, his nose twitching, his cute mouth twisting as he struggled with the state of his hair— which, to Sirius’s utmost delight, was the sloppiest he’d ever seen it be. If James’s usual hair looked like he was constantly _just_ getting off his broom after a day of practice, right now it looked like he got off the broom after flying inside a proper tornado.

“Funny, _is it?_ ” James said menacingly.

Sirius realized then that he’d been laughing the whole time.

“N-no,” he said quickly, biting back another laugh that bubbled inside him.

James approached him slowly. Right foot then left foot, then right again. His footsteps had this particular tiny limp that many Quidditch players got from too much flying and too little walking. With every limp, the stray strands of James’s hair— which was practically every strand— would jump a little, never failing to catch Sirius’s attention.

Obviously, James thought Sirius was still amused at his sorry bird nest of hair and Whistles’ winning look showing from above it, when it was only Sirius staring at his hair in general, just like always.

“Go on, laugh.” James jutted out his full bottom lip.

“I’m not laughing.”

“I know you’re dying to.”

Sirius honestly couldn’t understand why he was laughing so hard only seconds ago. Laughing seemed to be the last thing on his mind now, when those warm brown eyes pierced his own and those flush, disappointed lips looked just right for a gentle brush— against his own lips. Sirius imagined how James would look like after a good long snog. Something told him that those lips wouldn’t be curved so blatantly downward, then.

James slightly parted his lips, and Sirius came to himself.

With heat rushing to his neck and face, he quickly glanced back up to where he should be looking at, which was really anywhere except his damn mouth.

Too late, though.

James was staring at him wide-eyed, and if it were not for that maniacal snicker, Sirius would have either apologized profusely or ducked out of the room.

“Breakfast!” A lady’s voice rang from downstairs and through the hallway, and before either of the boys knew it, Remus and Peter’s footsteps could be heard coming down, James put some distance between himself and Sirius, and all four boys were making their way down the stairs.

At the sight of James’s hair, Remus arched his eyebrows but stayed silent.

Peter broke into fits.

James scowled, albeit self-consciously.

“Remind me again who cast the sustaining charm on the fire last night so you wouldn’t freeze to death, Wormtail. I’m regretting that now.”

"Remind me again who reminded you to do that," Sirius said, not meeting James's eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it's taking longer for me each time to update...   
> 1\. I want every chapter to be perfect before posting.  
> 2\. I have a lot going on this month.
> 
> Your reviews and kudos mean so much to me; they honestly keep me going!


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which something, or some things, actually happen, and hopefully you'll get the feels (if I did this right.)

 

Remus and Peter were leaving that day.

Remus was going on a vacation in Greece with his parents. Although his three best friends were worried about him facing the moon without them by his side, Remus assured them that he would be having way too much fun that even Moony would be satisfied and, subsequently, painless.

Peter, on the other hand, had a relative’s wedding to go to. None of the other boys could resist laughing at him when he tried on his new dress robes on a dare. It looked utterly ridiculous on him— even more so when he blushed scarlet.

 

And so it was that by noon, the Potter house was back to normal. Well, at least as normal as the Potter family could be with their still fresh, exciting new addition.

Sirius flicked his eyes toward the window and gazed out dreamily.

“Perfect Quidditch conditions today.”

It was just James and Sirius, Sirius and James, and both couldn’t be more comfortable lounging on the couch and watching trashy Muggle TV.

“You wouldn’t want to go flying again, would you? After…” James trailed off.

Sirius knew he was thinking about what happened last time they went out flying. Basically, Sirius breaking down all over the place.

“I dunno. Guess I just miss him a lot,” Sirius said, and he could almost convince James of his nonchalance. But he couldn’t. After all, this was James.

“Write him, Padfoot,” James said simply.

“What?”

“I suggest you write to him.”

“What?”

“I repeat—“

“I heard what you said.”

“You’re acting dumb.”

“I meant, why? Why the fuck would I write to him?”

“Well, why the hell not?”

“Because he wouldn’t write back,” Sirius spat.

James sighed. “Si, you never know. Just write to him and you’ll know for sure. Whichever way it turns out, at least you can stop fretting about whether he’ll ever look at you the same or not.”

Sirius’s mouth hardened into a line. “He won’t like it.”

“Since when have you taken into consideration other people’s opinions? Where is the selfish, self-assured, arrogant Sirius that I know?”

Sirius froze. “He’s my fucking brother, James.”

It made James insides recoil hearing Sirius use his real name like that. He couldn’t wrap his head around Sirius’s behavior, and this was something that rarely happened.

It was all he could do not to scream in frustration. “Uh huh, yeah, he’s your brother. Which is _exactly_ why you’re entitled to know how he’s doing. _It’s simple._ ”

“ _It’s_ not _simple!_ ”

Sirius shot up from the couch.

Before he knew it, he had yanked out his wand from his back pocket. His hand shook as his wand hovered a mere inch above James’s face, directly in between his eyes.

“Fuck you. Merlin knows you couldn’t understand. You don’t have a sibling, you don’t have awful parents. Everything in the world is so fucking easy for you. _”_

James didn’t so much as flinch. He didn’t even cross his eyes to make out the tip of Sirius’s wand.

“You’re an idiot.” he said calmly.

Sirius’s wand wavered slightly before steadying.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

James continued on, not even bothering to pull out his own wand. “You’re an idiot who can’t even bring himself to write one soppy letter to his own brother. And yet you claim to care about him.”

Sirius blinked angry tears away from his eyes. He felt a storm slowly brew inside him. What in hell was he doing, doing this to James? What was happening to him? He couldn’t pull it together; he couldn’t face Regulus, and now he couldn’t face James and the truth that he was forcing Sirius to see right now. Some Gryffindor.

Sirius ran to his room, then, inwardly thanking James’s parents for letting him have his own room. It was time for him to soak himself up in his own shame, up to the chin and then maybe further, and there was nobody to help him out of it now, not even James.

He locked the door, then flung himself onto the bed and _almost_ cried, but couldn’t even bring himself to do that.

Maybe his parents were right… maybe he really was the biggest fool, a fool so foolish that could fool even himself for the entire time, and maybe everything that he did, every prank that he pulled, and every feeling that he felt for his friends were but a mask to hide what a bitter, bloody coward he was. He pranked other students to get things off of his mind. And he’d thought he liked his friends— _loved_ them, even—but how much of that was merely his desperate attempt to simply be loved by those whom he was sure his parents would despise? How much of Sirius was mere vengeance, and how much of him was real?

 

James stood a foot apart from the door to Sirius’s room. He could always try _Alohomora,_ but something held him back. Instead, he simply stood and listened.

The other side was silent. If Sirius was crying, he must have cast _Muffliato_ , and that would mean that Sirius had intentionally set a boundary between them which he didn’t wish for James to cross.

James’s fingers began to pull so hard at his own hair that he could feel it tearing. It still wasn’t all that painful compared to this _feeling_.

James and Sirius fought a lot, but not like _this_ , never like _this._ Like— like, the world was falling apart all around him, spinning out of control and taking him away with it, away _from_ it. Away from Sirius.

James was surely a complete arse for bringing up Regulus when the wounds in Sirius were still fresh. But he didn’t just stop there. He hadn’t just _brought Regulus up_. He had fucking pushed, even when he knew it was the last thing Sirius wanted to hear. Who was he kidding? James was the selfish one. He was the hypocrite, too. He couldn’t even admit his real feelings for Sirius and instead had to have a go at him, and look where it landed the both of them.

James stomach signaled for him to be sick but he held his ground. Once Sirius finally decided to open the door, whether in defiance, whether in anger, or whether in a sudden urge to strike James hard in the face— James would be waiting.

 

It was an hour before Sirius could bring himself up and do what he knew deep down that he had to do. James had been right. Whether the outcome would be favorable or not, the one thing Sirius couldn’t hold off any longer was the uncertainty of how Regulus felt about him right now.

He wrote a quick note, not thinking twice about what he put down. Then he signed it off and sealed it without bothering to reread it. He couldn’t give himself time to back off.

Then he stuck his head out the window and whistled in a low tone, a message that the owl had to be quiet because it was time to prank James.

Whistled fluttered in noiselessly, radiating excitement.

Sirius shook his head and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, not today, lovely. I need you to get this as fast as possible to my brother, Regulus.”

Whistles stuck her tiny leg out, a little disappointed.

Sirius chuckled. “I _did_ think up of a great prank though. We can do it as soon as Regulus writes back to me.”

He felt a little bad at bribing Whistles so that she would rush— the journey to and from the Potters and the Blacks wasn’t necessarily a pleasant one. In this weather, though, a proud, fast owl like her could make it there in an hour, then back here within the second hour. Assuming Regulus would write back, that is, but Sirius chose not to dwell on that.

For extra safety, Sirius cast a double shield of disillusionment charms over the owl so she wouldn’t be caught by his parents. Now, he just had to hope and pray that no matter how much of a git Regulus wanted to be to him, he wouldn’t go so far as to hurt an innocent owl.

He watched Whistles zoom out at full speed. He tried, but couldn’t, rack his brains for a new prank on James that he could pull off together with the owl. When his mind wandered off to James, it hurt in waves. 

He fell asleep restlessly.

 

There was a window at the end of the hallway. As James stood determinedly at Sirius’s door, he turned his head sideways to look outside at the ocean-deep sky: Sirius had been right. It was a perfect day for Quidditch. Really, it was a perfect day for _anything_. Although having Remus and Peter over had been delightful, a part of him had been looking forward to when it would be just Sirius and himself again. And then when it did get back to the two of them, James had almost instantly ruined it. He’d ruined a perfect day and he’d hurt Sirius’s feelings, and he couldn’t hate himself more.

He’d been standing there for _ages_ when a shock of white streaked through the sky. James had had his owl for years now and would recognize that white anywhere. Although Whistles rarely went out for a midday flight during the hot season, James really didn’t have the energy to be properly confused at the moment.

 

Sirius awoke to the feel of soft feathers against his cheeks and nose. Whistles crooned softly, sticking her beak out—a beak that had clasped onto a small, rectangular envelope.

Sirius immediately shot up and grabbed the letter wordlessly.

Whistles looked hurt, but Sirius didn’t notice, because his eyes were already hungrily roving over the all-too-familiar, way-too-neat handwriting that could only possibly have come from his brother.

 

_Sirius,_

 

_I’ve been waiting to hear from you for a while now. What kept you?_

 

_I can’t say I’m not disappointed by that tantrum you threw, but it’s not like I hadn’t been expecting it to happen. Yeah, it was a shock, but you’d been talking about running away for ages and I suppose it was about time. (Obviously, I can’t afford to follow in your footsteps. But we won’t have this argument now.)_

 

_You still owe me that training on my next advanced move that you promised me. No one in Slytherin is willing to coach me, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be as good as you, as much as I hate to admit it. But I want to make the team this year and see your face when I hurl a bludger at you._

 

_I’ll see you at school then, down at the Quidditch pitch. First day back, at midnight, if that’s cool with you._

 

_Reg_

 

_P.S. Next time, write a little neater— I couldn’t make out half the things you wrote._

 

 

Because his sight blurred with tears as he read through it the first time, Sirius read it a second time. Then, just to be sure, a third time. Then, just to be extra sure, a fourth time.

With a shaky breath, he set the letter gently onto his desk. Then, realizing for the first time that there was a guest in his room, patted Whistled on the head and chuckled self-consciously.

“Thank you, Whistles. You outdid yourself.”

 

James caught his snowy owl flying closer toward the house, vaguely wondering how far she’d flown, when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. He would try to look a little more presentable, but at this point, he no longer cared.

Mrs. Potter reached the second storey and noticed her son slumped on the hallway floor with his back against the wall, wearing a stoney expression.

“Jamie?”

James glanced sideways and met his mother’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“What at all is happening?”

“It’s nothing, Mom.”

“Sure, honey. I’ll leave you to your hormonal teenage thoughts.”

“Mom!”

“Dinner will be ready at seven, alright?”

“Sure.”

“Honey, do you even know what time it is right now?”

“Um, two?”

“ _Four._ Four PM. Dinner in three hours. Make sure you and Sirius have made up by then.”

“What? I didn’t say anything about…”

“Of course you’d been fighting, Jamie. Why else would I see you without him being a foot away from you?”

“Never mind…”

“It’s okay, Jamie-kins. Take your time, the both of you.”

Mrs. Potter brushed past him to enter her and her husband’s room, broom in hand.

It was a short while after Mrs. Potter had finished sweeping her room and had rushed back downstairs, muttering something about “stir until cool, add water, oh yes, and the beets before that… mustn’t forget…” when James finally caught some hint of movement beyond the door directly opposite him.

He scrambled up to stand and pushed his hair away from his face, lips already parted in preparation for an apology.

 

“I’m sorry,” James said.

His eyes widened as another voice said the exact same two words at the exact same time, much like a Muggle voiceover.

Sirius smiled sadly.

“No, it’s me. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was just mad. I wasn’t myself. I’m so sorry.”

Sirius looked uncomfortable but sincere enough. Really, James had to give credit to him whenever Sirius was being serious— ironically, this was a rare occurrence.

“Si—I said too much. I pushed you, I shouldn’t have. Not like that, anyway. I wanted you to rely on me, but I ruined everything instead, didn’t I?” James chuckled wetly.

Sirius tried to hide his surprise as he registered the tears flowing copiously down James’s face.

“Merlin, James, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Shit.” He mumbled, reaching across helplessly to sandwich James’s head with both hands.

James sniffled, having given up trying to contain himself. Sirius looked so concerned for him and so— _patient_ — that James just _couldn’t_. He let the dam open completely and he shook violently as he looked and looked and looked at Sirius through his own shimmery tears, the boy he loved, the boy he would do absolutely anything for.

“I’m s-so bloody s-sorry for everything, S-Sirius,” he gasped, in between racking sobs. “I t-tried but I only made y-you feel worse, I— I hurt y-you, I d-don’t know how t-to apolo—“ he babbled on relentlessly, seeing but not fully registering the odd look in Sirius’s gaze.

“Jamie, stop that,” Sirius said softly. “Listen, hey, just listen to me. I wrote to Reg.”

James blinked stupidly for a couple seconds before his shaking subsided slightly.

“H-huh?”

“I wrote to Reg, Jamie, you dork. And he wrote back. Just now.”

“Whistles— I saw h-her—“

“‘Course you did. Bloody brilliant owl she is, Jamie. Flew there and back in under two hours.”

James showed a watery smile.

Sirius grinned back, inwardly swooning at how cute he was.

“He—Reg— he still wants me to teach him. Flying, that is.”

“M-Merlin, Sirius, that’s amazing!” James exclaimed, round eyes glittering.

Then he hugged Sirius.

It was all Sirius could do to keep himself from burying his face in James’s neck and kissing it repeatedly.

Then, James pulled back, and Sirius did not even give himself time to think thoroughly before he crashed his mouth on James’s wet lips.

He was just beginning to feel the gravity of his rash decision settle over him when suddenly James was moving, _pushing_ into him, his fingers suddenly just _there_ , curling into the front of Sirius’s shirt and grasping Sirius’s smooth hair, locking him in his embrace. But Godric and heavens, James was wonderful. He devoured sloppily and beautifully at Sirius’s hot mouth as their lips moved in sinc, their dancing more like wrestling, breathless and desperate and altogether fucking perfect.

Then Sirius started to push _back_ , because Merlin, _he_ was supposed to be the one wrapping himself around James, reassuring him and loving him, not the other way around. He stepped forward little by little until he had James caged in between himself and the opposite wall, and James whimpered a bit and clawed tighter at Sirius’s hair that Sirius literally felt himself melt.

But no, he had to be the strong one here. So he pulled away slightly and, while chuckling softly at how James blindly chased for his lips again, he brought his mouth up this time to right under James’s left eye, where a few sparkly tears had decided to cling onto his lashes instead of fall down. He kissed them, tear drop by tear drop, and when he had done two rounds of that, darted his tongue out to soothe the tear tracks, tasting the salty-sweet taste of _James Potter_.

“Don’t cry, Jamie-kins. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Mmm…” James closed his eyes in pure happiness, his hands now relaxing their grasp and instead moving to rake over Sirius’s back.

Sirius smiled fondly. “And I’m sorry. For everything. Now, you tell me how I can make it up to you.”

“You… you didn’t do anything wrong, either, Paddy.”

The way James said ‘Paddy’ in that throaty, husky, post-crying voice made Sirius want to just _take over_ him. He bit his lip before he could croon audibly.

“Yes, I did, I made you cry.”

“N-no, not r-really—“

“Honestly, _Prongsy_. Just tell me how I can make it up to you, just one thing.”

Sirius suggestively leaned in closer until their faces were a mere hairsbreadth apart, tantalizing and challenging.

James growled, his pupils blown up wider than Sirius had ever seen them. “Fine. Kiss me, then. Snog me like you mean it.”

“Sure thing,” Sirius breathed, and before he could grin properly, he had bunched up his lips once again around James’s. He flicked his tongue on James’s upper lip, then slid it agonizingly slowly across his lower lip, which made James make an impatient noise and instantly part his lips. Sirius’s tongue crawled his way inside, strikingly calm against James’s rather rushing tongue, caressing, apologizing, and loving…

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely LOVED writing this chapter. I stayed up for like four hours writing this from the bottom up. I didn't think about the plot beforehand, it just came naturally, and I honestly couldn't be happier with how it turned out.
> 
> But I'm dying to know what y'all think!


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If sexy stuff isn't for you, don't read this chapter.  
> If you're totally excited about it, go for it XP

 As James and Sirius headed down for dinner, all James could think was, _Sirius kissed me Sirius kissed me Sirius kissed me._ It was as though he had somehow got a new pair of eyes but with the same terrible eyesight, as everything looked so different. The hallway sparkled, the kitchen glimmered, and dinner—well, dinner looked unappetizing.

 

“So, how was your day, boys?” Mr. Potter smiled at them as they sat down at the table.

“It was great, Mr. Potter,” Sirius said casually, like he hadn’t just been snogging James lifeless.

“Good, good. At least it must have been better than my day at work…”

“What all happened at work today, honey?”

“Well, you see, there was that client yet _again_ …”

As the adults kept on with their very ‘adult’ conversation, James picked at his pasta.

Watching him twirl a single piece with his fork, Sirius quirked his eyebrows.

“Not hungry, Prongs?”

James shrugged, catching Sirius’s eyes within a blink of a second and staring back down at his food.

Sirius hummed curiously. “Thinking of tasting something _else_?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

James gasped. Blood rushed up his neck and into his face, blowing up his cheeks. He didn’t even so much as glance at Sirius this time as he kept his head bowed over his food, concentrating on the oozing red sauce, the chunky brown meatballs, the pale strings of pasta…

Sirius stared at him, much like how a dog would stare at a bone just out of reach.

“Interesting.”

Just then, a blinding ball of white pelted down from the ceiling and zigzagged across the dining table before swooping under the surface, whizzing around the diners’ ankles.

A startled Mrs. Potter screamed.

An annoyed Mr. Potter batted his wand around aimlessly.

A ticklish James Potter yelped for all but two seconds, then burst out in unfiltered giggles.

“S-stop! Bloody _hell!_ N-not nice!” In the midst of strangling to pull his legs up, a certain sharp beak bit his ankle.

“ _Ow!_ ”

Sirius laughed boisterously.

“Okay, c’mon Whizzles, I think that’s enough for poor Jamie, isn’t it?”

Whistles landed in front of Sirius and pouted—yes, actually _pouted_ — in anything but agreement, but made no other noise before soaring out of the window, gone in a flash.

Mr. Potter was smoothing down his work robes, disgruntled. “Can we at least bar the windows during mealtimes?”

“If you had any eyes, you would notice that the windows in fact are already barred during mealtimes.” Mrs. Potter heaved, closely inspecting the dishes for any hint of feather. “ _Someone_ must have let her in.”

“Whistles’ a smartypants.” Sirius shrugged, not fooling anyone.

“ _Bloody_ —!”

Everyone snapped their heads around to stare at James, who was currently smothering himself with his pasta, a hand clutching his mouth, desperately fighting to keep it inside. He rocked his head forward in agony and it almost looked like he was choking himself for absolutely no reason.

Without excusing himself, he jerked up from his seat and made for the bathroom, and soon enough, some very unpleasant noises could be heard from its direction.

Sirius rushed there, right in time to see James starting his third round of vomiting. He scooted over and knelt down, hands coming up to gently gather James’s hair back so it wouldn’t get in the way.

“’S alright, Jamie... just let it all out…that’s it…” He whispered into his ear.

James whimpered weakly then retched again, his entire upper half shaking over the toilet bowl.

“Go on, that’s it… _there_ you go… it’ll get better, just give it a moment…”

It was a solid two minutes before James was finally calming down, shoulders rising and falling in heaves.

He clambered over to the sink, spitting and gargling water, splashing it everywhere.

“Ugh.”

Sirius flushed the toilet before also standing up and wrapping his arms firmly around James’s middle, breathing hotly into the back of his neck.

“Sorry…didn’t think it’ll be that bad. It was supposed to be only a small prank I owed Whistles.”

“What did you spike my perfectly good food with?” His tone was unquestionably one of curiosity, not even half mad. This kind of behavior once in a while was expected of Sirius, and if James were to be really honest, they _both_ lived off of pranks.

“Bertie Bott’s. I assume it was barf flavor, judging from your bodily reaction. And, really, Jamie. Perfectly good food, did I hear? Why weren’t you having any of it, then?”

“Fuck you,” James hissed.

He felt Sirius grin, judging by the edges of his teeth scraping along James’s nape. James’s grip tightened on the edge of the sink.

“Yeah… that’s the idea.” Sirius breathed. Then he nipped on the skin there, making James gasp.

“ _Fuck._ ”

“Your room, Jamie.”

James visibly shook from the effort to reject him, but he managed.

“Are you bloody serio— are you mad? Mom will go all banshee over us for leaving dinner like that. Show some respect, will you, she’s letting you stay.”

Sirius frowned at that.

“Hmm. After, then. After dinner. Think you can wait that long, Prongsykins?”

“ _Fuck_ you.”

“Again, that’s the general idea.”

 

 

The lecture didn’t go all that bad, in Sirius’s opinion. After all, in Sirius’s dictionary, a bad lecture was one that involved slapping belts and ripping hair. Physical violence emotional pain. Followed by a full, sleepless night of self-hatred.

Instead, he got a warning. _A ‘warning.’_ Really, he didn’t even know that some parents did that. No wonder James was an arrogant, spoiled brat…

“Also, you’ll prepare dinner for us, tomorrow evening.”

“What.” Sirius said dumbly.

“I think it’s perfectly reasonable, considering how you wreaked havoc at dinner… don’t you agree, darling?” Mrs. Potter smiled expectantly at her husband.

“Er, yes, yes, of course, must understand… the difficulty and effort… of putting food on the table…” Mr. Potter spluttered, much like a rehearsed but ill-remembered script.

Sirius, on the other hand, knew all too well how hard it was to follow a cooking recipe to detail and on time. He’d done it already countless times back at his own— _old—_ house, without magic, as punishment. That was still back when things were mild, though. Before he got into Gryffindor and his parents decided that cooking as punishment was not enough.

His insides turned as his mind reeled in an attempt to answer, why in the world did he pull such a prank and didn’t even think about it twice?

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, honestly.

“I will forgive you this time, but Sirius, please learn. As for tomorrow, James can help you, of course. ” Mrs. Potter added carelessly.

James coughed, annoyed but not too much. His mind was already too far gone imagining what Sirius had in store for the night.

 

As soon as the door shut behind them, James made a move towards Sirius’s lips.

Sirius chuckled at James’s desperation and reciprocated lightly for a few moments, before stepping back and throwing himself onto James’s bed.

“I messed up at dinner, didn’t I?” Sirius said morosely, staring up at the ceiling.

Beside him, James laid down.

“What? Oh—that was nothing… she gets mad at me a lot, too.”

Sirius sighed. “I know how it feels when someone fucks with the food you cooked. My mother sometimes dumped the stuff I cooked straight into the garbage. Said no one was gonna eat the horse shit I made.”

“Shit…” James stared at him with round, disbelieving eyes, but Sirius couldn’t meet them, not yet.

“I don’t know why she never noticed though, that Regulus was always swallowing down my food right next to her. Granted, he eats literally anything, but all the same it was a total lie in the face to hear that no one would have it.”

James said nothing, only gazed thoughtfully at Sirius with those innocent, puppy-dog eyes. _Not fair,_ Sirius thought. _I’m the literal puppy here._

“Do you think I’m real?” Sirius blurted out, before the thought could smother him further into his own mind.

“What do you mean?” James furrowed his brows. Sirius swooped up to nuzzle a kiss in between them.

“I dunno.” Sirius flopped back down onto James’s pillow. “Do you think I’m capable of real… shit? Like real feelings?”

“Is _the_ Sirius Black talking about _feelings?_ ”

“Never mind.”

With that, the conversation was over, and Sirius turned his head away, which was already whirling to come up with a lighter subject to talk about. Perhaps something that could actually lead to a steamy, sexy first time…

“Hey, Si, I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me. Si…hey, c’mon, just look at me. Come back,” James mumbled fervently, hands lifting to tug on the back of Sirius’s shirt.

Sirius refused to budge.

But the feather-light kisses landing onto his shoulder blades and the cool breaths sliding over his naked skin with each kiss was decidedly irresistible.

Sighing, Sirius shifted his head back. His glassy eyes met James’s.

“I’ve been wondering today. If I… if I have you and Moony and Wormy because I like you all, or because I like to entertain the thought of my parents disliking them… You get me?”

James’s eyes clouded with confusion, but still said, “go on.”

“Like, is what I feel ever real? Friendship, and… all that shit that I keep telling myself I really have to myself. Well, it feels real enough, but…my parents… I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d fucked me up so bad that I just won’t ever, like, feel what normal people like you feel… as in, feel like a real person,” Sirius blabbered, uncharacteristically.

“‘Course you’re real, Pads,” James smiled, carding his fingers through Sirius’s longish, smooth hair. “Everything that you feel is real. Same as what I feel,” he said easily, like he was explaining what two plus two was with the patience of a babysitter.

Why was it so simple for James and not for Sirius?

“You think so?”

“Sure I do.”

“Why?”

James propped himself up onto one elbow and peered down at Sirius.

“Because… I wouldn’t be friends with someone who just _fakes_ things, just like that. Do you think I’d be friends with you if I thought you’d never think of me as a friend?”

“Well, you _can_ be thick…”

“Git.” James swatted at Sirius’s cheek lightly. “What I’m saying is, you’re real, Sirius. You’re the realest person I know. Whatever you think you’re feeling, Si, you’re really feeling it.”

Sirius felt a little warm on the inside, but hell if he would admit it. “An expert on human emotions, now, are you, Prongs?”

“Proudly so.”

Sirius wanted to positively _eat_ that snicker off James’s face. Those godforsaken lips, just slightly dry-looking underneath the glow of the beside lamp like they could do with a little moisturizing… preferably with Sirius’s tongue…

“Still not convinced, Paddy-mutt?”

What was James talking about? Really, what _had_ they been talking about only a moment earlier? Sirius could neither think nor talk, and therefore, bit the corner of his lip as he scanned James’s face hungrily, deciding where he wanted to put his mouth on first.

Suddenly, James had rolled on top of Sirius, his full weight pressing down on him, and before Sirius could do so much as groan, James’s mouth was forcing his lips apart and shoving his tongue inside. When James’s teeth gently grazed the inside of his bottom lip, who could blame Sirius for moaning all out of control? His pride could go fuck itself.

James pulled back and by the time Sirius opened his eyes, he saw that smug look again, the look that positively sang, _I’m Prongs, I’m a Marauder, and I can get anything I want with a flashy smile and maybe a prank._

“Now you tell me _that_ didn’t feel real.”

Sirius blinked, annoyed. “ _What?_ ”

James snorted as his face ducked into Sirius’s neck.

A tongue slid over Sirius’s sensitive skin, and although he was _going_ to tell James to quit it and stop acting like he could do whatever he wanted with him because he bloody well _couldn’t_ , all that came out of his fickle, useless mouth was desperate, puffy gasps. James’s tongue was doing funny things, swirling little circles on Sirius’s neck like it was tasting him and liking it very, very much, brushing the same, sparkly, sensitive spots circle after circle and making these fucking _moaning sounds_ until it left Sirius not much more than a shivering heap, his hands moving on their own accord to feel the smooth, hard lumps and dips of muscle on James’s back. Then James started to nibble at his skin teasingly, his buzzing self-assurance radiating out of him and onto Sirius.

“James,” Sirius breathed, lungs surging and fingers twisting into James’s hair.

James reached behind his head to grab Sirius’s wrists. Confused, Sirius let go of his hair and let him guide them up and over Sirius’s head, pinning them down onto the pillow.

Sirius was keenly aware of how exposed this made him, how vulnerable he must appear to James now. Normally, Sirius hated this kind of thing, hated any situation where he didn’t have the upper hand, but James... It was okay.

Fine, more than okay.

“ _James,_ ” Sirius now insisted, breaths coming in embarrassingly impatient hisses.

James had this sort of intense look in his eyes, his jaws clenching in concentration. “Sirius. Does _this_ feel real to you?,” was all he said before rolling his hips down against Sirius’s.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

Sirius's senses were momentarily shocked and all he could stare up at was the funny little sparks dancing inside a pair of mesmerizing dark eyes.

Then James fluttered them closed, those gorgeous lips tugging into a self-satisfied smile.

“Mmm, you like that, Si? That felt real, didn’t it?”

Another full roll of his hips, another mind-blowingly good one. Sirius’s head flew back and his mouth hung open.

“Fuck, _James…”_

“Ohhh, that feels good, Sirius, doesn’t it?”

“ _B-Bloody_ …”

“ _Oh yeahhhh_ , it feels good, huh, feels  _real_ and all?” James crooned as his groin met Sirius’s through their double layers of clothing repeatedly, his voice flowing sickly sweet in between Sirius’s helpless moans. James’s face was a mixture of awe and pleasure and smugness, and somewhere underneath all that was the utter disbelief that he was grinding onto _Sirius,_ of all people—a relatable disbelief. Sirius himself had wanted this for so fucking long— _so long_ —that now that it was happening, he wanted to do everything _his_ way, he wanted to touch James wherever _he_ wanted which to be precise was really fucking everywhere, and he wanted to bite James’s neck in return because _he_ wasn’t going to let James mark his skin for nothing. But James would let him have none of that, as he kept his hands clasped tightly around Sirius’s straining wrists, thumbs caressing circles over the skin there as if to soothe his obvious desperation. All the while he was grinding, grinding, and grinding onto him in that annoying self-assured way of his that by now, Sirius could feel the outline of James’s erection fitting deliciously above his own—God, he could _picture_ it—

Without warning, James stopped, lifting his hips so they now hovered tantalizingly over Sirius’s. Sirius swore loudly and arched his hips, _insisting_ James to meet them again, but he didn’t take the fucking message and only lifted himself higher, grinning down at him like a bloody manupilative lunatic.

Sirius growled threateningly—at least he thought he did—but he might as well have just whined loudly.

“What’s all this, Potter?” He panted, as he narrowed his eyes at James, who was, for the record, also panting messily.

“I asked you a question. You haven’t answered yet.”

“What _bloody_ question are you talking about?”

James grinned further. Fuck, those _dimples._ Fucking _definition_ of unfair.

This time, Sirius really did growl, bucking his hips up once more in vain and huffing as he slammed back down. “In case your asshole hasn’t noticed, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to whatever you were going on about while you were _grinding on me_.”

“Oh? Liked it that much, did you, you mutt?” James sniggered, his usually brown eyes nearly black as they bored down onto Sirius’s, daring him to admit it.

Sirius bristled.

“I asked you if it felt real, you absolute, adorable twat.” James said.

“If it felt real?”

“Yes, _Paddy._ If I remember correctly, that was all you were fretting about only a second ago when all I wanted was to get you laid already.”

“Fretting?”

“Gosh, are you fucking se—? Ugh. Look, this is a fucking yes-or-no question. True or false. The easiest ones that appear at the very top on OWLs.”

“What’s the question?” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut, willing his hips to stop humping air and his aching erection to stay put.

“Bloody _buggering_ hell.” James seemed to visibly give up, and he released one of Sirius’s wrists.

Suddenly, Sirius’s entire body lit up as his cock jerked—

He moaned into the deliciously mad sensation, because Merlin’s massive balls, James was _touching_ him now, fucking _inside_ his pants, and Sirius didn’t even care to wonder how he’d gotten his hand in without him noticing. He blabbered out nonsense as his body arched up into the sensation, rubbing against those gentle fingers, urging them to just please go _harder_.

He might have whimpered like a needy puppy when James’s thumb swiped slowly at his straining cock—a single, hot trail that left nothing but stinging desire on Sirius’s part.

“ _James, fuck._ ” He gasped out, not because he wanted to but because he had to say something, anything, to make sense of this absolute need that was coursing through him, and lust has _never_ felt this way. Like, he needed that thumb, he needed those fingers, and he needed whoever who was attached to those fingers just like he needed air to breathe and pranks to pull…

James relaxed the grip of his _other_ hand, the hand that was clasped around Sirius’s wrist, and slid it further forward so that now their hands were attached palm-to-palm, fingers locked together. Sirius clutched at James's hand desperately, and James squeezed back.

“Does it feel real?” James said, yet again, brushing his fingers on Sirius’s cock, teasing and demanding at the same time. “C’mon, Padfoot, _tell me_ it feels real, _tell me_ it feels good…”

“Uh huh, yeah, yes, _ohhhh_ …” 

“Good.”

James’s expression suddenly lost some of the fierceness and his eyes went soft, before it was gone and he once again looked like he positively wanted to bite Sirius.

Sirius’s eyes bugged out and his head jerked off the pillow as James began to finally, _finally_ stroke him, and Sirius had to watch this because Merlin, he absolutely loved those fingers, loved how they curled around Sirius’s cock exactly like he’d seen them grasping his broom countless times, and _oh,_ this was actually happening.

James kept up the speed as his smirking face disappeared beneath Sirius’s chin again, and he was back to pulling on Sirius's skin by his teeth. His hot breath caught and hitched against his neck as his still-clothed erection started to hump madly against his thigh, prompting Sirius to slide his free hand onto his bum, squeezing and guiding him to land his crotch on his thigh over and over and over…

James gave out a gasp that turned halfway into a full-out moan, and Sirius could have died just then because it was the single most arousing sound he’d ever heard.

And that’s when he came, eyes snapping shut again as he moaned along with James, not even feeling minutely guilty that he’d come so fast. Blinding, searing pleasure drowned him in waves, and when he next opened his eyes, James was staring down at him like he’d never seen him before, throat bobbing and eyes drinking down the sight of him eagerly like he was getting off just from _looking_ at Sirius’s face…

And then he _was_. James was squeezing Sirius’s hand _hard_ and he _was_ coming and Sirius knew it because it was obvious, all fucking _written_ on his face, knitted brows and gaping mouth all but the definition of pleasure. James’s hoarse moan collided with Sirius’s own as Sirius pushed him through his climax, gripping his tight arse and letting him rub into his thigh, mind still marveling at how he just made fucking _James Potter_ come in his pants without so much as touching him.

 

 

After, when they were both clean and sated and just ready for bed, lights off and trying to make space for each other on a single bed and all that, Sirius flung his arm over James and lifted his head, intending to give him one last goodnight kiss.

James’s hand landed on his forehead then, and he waited because James evidently had something to say…

“I’m in love with you, Sirius.”

Sirius’s breath caught. No, _really_ …?

“I love you to fucking death and it’s hopeless, really. But it’s so obvious to me. I’ve known it for a while.”

Sirius’s head rested motionlessly on James’s palm, which was shaking a bit, and squinted his eyes in the dark because he had to see him when he was saying this, fucking _declaring_ this, he _really_ had to see…

James chuckled hoarsely. “Yeah… Pretty fucked, isn’t it? Falling in love without having even dated yet…”

Sirius laid his head down, slowly, and snuggled his face into the soft curve of James’s neck. His heart was beating fast and he was feeling warm all over, and he wanted James to feel it.

“No, not fucked,” he whispered.

James sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do this to me, Padfoot, make me feel like this, but it better not be one of your smarter pranks…”

“No, not prank.”

“Good.”

Sirius busied his mouth by sucking and releasing the soft skin on James’s neck repeatedly, his insides buzzing with delight and utter contentment.

“Don’t think you have to say it back to me, yeah Pads? I just… wanted to vent it out because it was killing me, but no pressure on your side, yeah? Just… make sure you’re comfortable with all this…”

With that, Sirius surged up, cradled the sides of James’s face and kissed him, because he _loved_ him back, he _really_ did… And he loved him even more for already _knowing_ that Sirius wouldn’t be able to say it yet, without having him to hint at it with _words_ or anything.

He suddenly remembered what they’d been talking about, right before they got carried away—well, right before _Sirius_ got carried away, more like.

“Jamie,” he breathed into James’s mouth and grinned at the feel of him quivering under his lips.

“Yeah?”

“This feels _real._ ”

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so much for bearing with the slow updates.
> 
> This took so fucking long because my Notes application decided to stop syncing to iCloud, stuff happened, more stuff happened, and I ended up swearing and yelling at my phone because even fucking apple support failed me.  
> But... I pulled out, I wrote a new chapter from scratch when it had already been 90% done, so yeah. That was my excuse.
> 
> There may or may not be a next chapter because I'm rather thinking of starting a new chaptered fic...  
> But if I do choose to include a new chapter to this one, it would most likely involve more smut.
> 
> Anyway, let me know what y'all think, as always. Much love xx


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just plain old smut here.

“I could use a hand here, you know!” Sirius bellowed.

Mrs. Potter had _specifically_ mentioned that James will be helping Sirius out at the kitchen, and Sirius was pissed. All James had been doing for the past hour was taking advantage of their parents’ absence and lying down on the couch, watching a fucking _movie_ —whatever that was—and falling in and out of sleep.

James grunted from the living room.

Sirius sliced the tomatoes away in quick succession, internally cursing at James. _Fuck_ him, just fuck him, and he claimed to be in _love_ with Sirius? Who was he kidding?

“Where did you learn to do that?” A disinterested voice sounds from behind him, and he peers around.

“Oh, so you decided to join me, after all?”

“I didn’t say anything about _joining_ you, I asked you where you learned to _do_ that.”

“Do what?”

“That,” James said, pointing at the cutting board splayed in front of Sirius.

“It’s called slicing the tomatoes, Jamie.”

“How do you do it like— _that?_ Like, so fucking fast?”

Sirius hadn’t really been aware of his cutting speed, really, it wasn’t something that his family casually pointed out when they inspected his procedure for any minor faults. But come to think of it, his fingers were blurring in their speed and the knife was doing its job more or less in the way a wand would do, and yeah, it could look impressive to the eye for someone like James.

He raised his eyebrows at him. “C’mere, I’ll show you,” he smirked, slipping in a seductive edge to his voice.

James scowled at the obvious bribery, but nonetheless he didn’t really have a choice after being invited like _that,_ and even the triumphant look on Sirius’s face as he saw him approach didn’t stop him.

 

It wasn’t like it was his _first time_ grabbing a knife and cutting vegetables and all; he was rather fairly experienced in the field as preparing meals for the family was _not_ an otherworldly, alien concept to him as Sirius seemed to believe.

“That’s right, now try to get the slices thinner,” Sirius cooed from behind him.

“They’re already thin as _fuck_.” James spat, his knife cutting away with building vigor.

Sirius clicked his tongue like an exasperated parent. And James was supposed to be _older_ , what the fuck.

“Now, now, relax your arms, flex them a little.” He slid a hand onto James’s arm and squeezed gently. It only tensed more.

“You do realize it’s a little hard to do that right now, yeah?” James hissed, daring to glance behind him for a bit.

“Oh? Why’s that?”

James cursed under his breath and continued to slice away.

“You’re doing good, Jamie,” Sirius whispered, suddenly so close to his ear, breath hot and soft, and then there were firm hands sliding down his front and towards his abdomen, and he jerked.

The knife slipped from his grasp and nicked the tip of his finger.

“What the fuck! Sirius, look what you’ve done!” James caught the cut in between his teeth and hissed painfully from between them.

“Aww, Jamie,” Sirius hummed sympathetically. “But are you sure you didn’t just do that to yourself?”

James felt his face turning into a Quaffle, rapidly.

“Just—fucking— _fuck,_ I left my wand over there—get yours out, will you? I need to heal this shit, it’s bleeding.”

“And why would you need my wand when I can do _this,_ instead?” Sirius’s tone was eerily calm.

James looked around, about to glare at him and tell him to _just stop fooling around and fucking heal it_ , but the words ended up dissolving in his throat, because—

Sirius was sucking his finger.

His finger—literally, his _first finger_ — sliding in between Sirius’s lips and then deeper into the wet, hot cavern of his mouth, then sliding out and reappearing again, all slick and shiny with spit and _drooling_. James’s heart stuttered.

Sirius hummed around his finger, looking exceptionally pleased with himself as he took it in again, and then fucking _swirled_ his wicked tongue around the fingertip. A sudden, vivid image popped up in James's head, in which his current finger was replaced with the hypothetical, leaking slit of his cock.

James gasped before he could stop himself, because _that—_ that was something new— none of his past girlfriends had sucked on his finger before— and it felt fucking _magical_. The sight of his finger slipping in and out of Sirius’s mouth tickled his insides and startled his cock, somehow looking better than the _best_ porn James had come across so far—the feel of stinging desire in his whole body overwhelming the prickling pain of his fingertip—that _look_ on Sirius’s face, those eyes drinking down the reaction he was getting out of him, vague amusement veneering an obvious, sharp lust—it was like he could orgasm just from it. Merlin help him, he was actually head over heals for this boy and nothing could be done except reach his free hand out to grab the front of Sirius’s trousers.

This time it was Sirius’s time to gasp, _harshly_ , and James's turn to snicker.

But Sirius wouldn’t let him humiliate him for long; he abruptly let go of his finger as he grabbed his sides and twisted him around, so that James stumbled and his hands landed hard on the counter, bracing his weight.

Without allowing him so much as half a breath to regain his balance, Sirius snaked a hand from behind and started to stroke him over his trousers. James’s hands gripped the cold, porcelain counter edges, a broken moan escaping his lips. Sirius’s teeth grazed the back of his neck as he whispered, “You want this, don’t you, Jamie? You want it so _bad,_ you’re so hard for me… So gorgeous, so hot…”

“S-Sirius!” James cried, he couldn’t hold anything back anymore, fuck it all, because Sirius was reaching a hand _inside_ now, and his consciousness couldn’t catch up to that incredible spark of skin touching _skin._

In between heaving gasps and Sirius’s encouraging, keening words whispering into his ear, his moans came out raggedly. A shudder spiked through his core and his hips bucked forward helplessly in more and more desperate jerks, pushing into Sirius's hand…

His fingers clenched tighter around the sharp edges of porcelain, the surface now warm and damp from his own sweat, since he had nothing else, absolutely _nothing,_ to hold on to as he doubled over and cried out in a stab of pleasure.

Sirius’s strong arms caught his waist as he came in fierce bursts, his voice only making him come even heavier: “yesss, that’s it, Jamie, look at you, you did so _well_ … so hot for me, all bent over… you couldn’t _resist,_ could you?”

James took in two, shuddering breaths as he resolved that now was not the time to reflect on the mind-blowing orgasm he just had, because he could feel Sirius’s insistent hard-on pressing into his arse and it seemed like the perfect time to do what he’d always been curious about doing.

He swiveled around and, ignoring Sirius’s confused whine, reached down and worked at Sirius’s fly deftly. With his own urgency gone, he sank down onto his knees and held the base of Sirius’s cock determinedly, all practical and business-like. He was going to make it _good,_ he was going to make him moan at least _double_ as embarrassingly as James had been moaning only a second ago, and he was going to make him completely _let go_.

Before touching his lips to Sirius's cock, he raised his chin and looked up. Sirius’s expression had lost all amusement and mockery but was now staring back at him in shock, his eyelids hooded and lips slightly parted.

There was a sharp tug at his hair, which James took to mean not a _yes_ but a _hurry up_ , and James wasted no more time.

Sirius was _big_ — well, maybe not _necessarily_ , it could have just _felt_ big because James had never sucked on someone’s cock before— and it overwhelmed him as it filled his mouth, sliding deeper and deeper, and even though he could feel his gag reflex almost about to cross the line, it stayed there, at _almost_ , and very gently, James guided the tip to meet his throat.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Sirius gasped loudly and his fingers started to tremble around clumps of James’s hair. “Fuck, Jamie, c’mon, _harder…_ ”

James squeezed the base and sucked, _hard_ , just like Sirius asked, and he closed his eyes in satisfaction as he heard the unmistakable cry of pleasure coming from above him.

“Yessss! Fuck, Jamie… Just like _that._ ”

A few moments passed by in which Sirius’s moans gradually became more and more intense, his impatient cock starting to _push_ into James’s mouth at some point, and James sensed it a split second before—

“ _Fuck,_ James, I’m close!”

James supposed it was meant to be a warning but he didn’t heed it anyway, as he’d wanted this for ages, really, _years_ if he were being honest…

Suddenly, Sirius’s come was filling his mouth, and as much as he gulped it down, some of it drooled down from his lips and left hot trails on his chin. He stood up and let Sirius grab his face with his hands, his eager, roaming gaze halting at the sight of his own come slipping and sliding from between James’s lips, before he kissed him.

James grinned at the over-passionateness of it all, and tried to reciprocate just as much while Sirius unhelpfully pushed his tongue around his mouth, groaning uncontrollably like James had never heard before, like he couldn’t get enough of James, like all the pent-up frustration he’d developed while prepping the vegetables on his own and shouting incessantly at James’s slumped figure on the couch was now collapsing, breaking into pieces, falling out of him and into James’s willing mouth.

“James,” Sirius pulled back just enough to utter that one name, hoarsely, and went back to catch James’s lips once again.

James squeezed his eyes shut tight in a happiness he’d never felt before, so new that he didn’t know if happiness was the right word.

 

When they finally pulled apart, Sirius smiled at him fondly, ruffling his hair.

“Did you want to continue with the tomatoes?”

James frowned, suddenly, remembering the cut.

“No, I’m good.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay somehow I feel really, really uncomfortable writing smut??? Like it's so hard. (no pun intended, whoops)  
> It doesn't come naturally to me the way it does when I'm writing non-smutty scenes. If anyone has any single tip that they think will help me write sexy stuff better, or that has helped them write it better, I'm dying to know. Thank you.
> 
> NEW FIC will be up soon, it will be called The Spitting Image of a Gryffindor, (I know I'm really bad at names, yeah? don't bully me.) and I want it to be a long prongsfoot angst and feels and hurt/comfort fic but depending on how it works out, it might be split into several fics. The first chapter is nearly done and will be up in the next couple o' days, so keep them eyes open!
> 
> I honestly can not thank you all enough for supporting me through this fic; I'm a very insecure and moody person-- a single comment or kudo decides whether or not I want to continue a story!


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